


Always

by FridaysChild



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FridaysChild/pseuds/FridaysChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you could speak to one person who died, who would it be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Identity Crisis.  
> Written for 60_minute_fics @ LJ.

Tim's not a big fan of Halloween. He wears a costume every night and a mask every day. So it's not anything new and fun for him. Plus all of the Gotham crazies seem to come out to play, and the rest of the criminal element doesn't exactly take the night off, either. If anything, they seem to step up their efforts.

So after wrangling The Joker with Bruce, breaking up five muggings and three "tricks" that went too far, and the usual crimes, Tim's tired, cranky, and wet from the last prank gone wrong. Since it's unseasonably cold this doesn't improve his mood at all. And all of this before ten!

Getting caught in the middle of a magic zap-off between Zatanna and Klarion the Witch Boy doesn't exactly improve his evening. They throw spells at each other at the same time and there's a ricochet that smacks Tim square in the chest.

He feels woozy for a moment, a bit like he's been concussed, and when that lifts, he blinks because there seems to be a gray mass hovering just at the edges of his vision, a gray tint to the front, and there are people around who weren't around before.

"Zatanna," Tim says, a bit alarmed. She makes a vague "be right with you" motion and goes back to firing what appears to be Nickelodeon game show green slime at Klarion.

She dispenses of Klarion a bit later; how, Tim's not sure because he doesn't really see. "Were you hit by something?"

Tim nods. "I'm seeing...people. Just...standing around. And everything looks a little grey."

"Did you know that the veil between the worlds is thinnest on Halloween?"

"All of them?"

"Well, in particular, the world of the dead and the living, though in theory it would be easier to slip between universes and similar kinds of things to happen today, too. I think our combined spells have just added a bit of residual magic to you so you'll be seeing the world of the dead for a bit."

Tim glances around him. "These people are dead?" They're not the first ghosts he's seen, but generally he doesn't deal with so many at once. There's a little nervousness, and weirdness, and a tiny spark of hope he tries to squash down.

"Given the effect, the magic will probably wear off around midnight."

"Probably."

Zatanna shrugs. "If it doesn't, call me and I'll figure out how to clear you up, but if it wears off? That's the best way to get rid of something. And it shouldn't do you any harm."

Tim calls Oracle and tells her he's going to be offline for a couple hours and then swings off. Someone had told him once that people can see and hear what's going on with the living when they're dead. Conner doesn't remember, he doesn't think, but then his resurrection was a little different from most. Tim hopes that it might mean he can find the one person he so desperately wants to see. Wants to be alive, but if he can't have that, wants to be able to talk to, just once.

He starts at his father's grave, but for a park full of dead bodies, there are surprisingly few ghosts there. He tries a few other places - their old house, where he died, Tim's own apartment, and finally the batcave. The cave is cold and silent and he's about ready to give it up as a stupid fancy, and then he turns around.

"Dad," he whispers, freezing in place. Most of him didn't really think he'd succeed and now he doesn't know what to do. His heart seizes up and he swipes at his face. His dad looks the same as always, just with that same extra-grey tinge he sees on all the dead, and with a slight transparency.

"Tim?" Jack's voice is hesitant and sounds like it's coming to Tim from a distance through something denser than air.

"Magic," Tim says and laughs hoarsely. "I hate magic. Except right now. It's going to wear off." He rubs his face again and drops to his knees, feeling half-mad. "Dad."

"Tim." Jack moves to hug him but Tim doesn't get much more than a slight sensation of pressure.

"I miss you." Tim's trying really, really hard not to cry and his jaw aches from it. "Do you...can you watch?"

"All the time, Tim. I'm so proud of you. You know that, right?"

Tim nods a little, even though he hadn't. "Everything?"

Jack smiles. "Enough. You're seventeen, you're going to screw up sometimes, but you always handle it so well and you do the right thing in the end. And you learn. I'm always proud in the end. I just wish I could be there to help you through those decisions."

"Dad, I'm sorry."

Jack shakes his head. "Tim, it wasn't your fault. You were always careful. I'd have even said too paranoid. You didn't pull the trigger and you didn't hire the person who did."

"But if I'd never been Robin-"

"I probably would have died with your mother. Or something else could have happened. A car accident, a random act of violence. That's what this was, Tim - a random act of violence. It just happened to be someone you knew from work and not school or home."

"I still caused it."

"Tim, listen to me. you could not possibly have foreseen this event. Maybe your decisions caused it, in the sense that I wouldn't have been alive to kill, that you wouldn't have known that crazy woman if not for Robin. But cause is different than fault. You didn't know this would happen, and if you did, you would have done things differently. Tim, you cannot blame yourself for the terrible things other people decide to do."

Tim still wants to shake and cry. He will probably never stop feeling like it's his fault, but it helps to know that his dad is proud and not angry or disappointed. In the craziness of the moment he couldn't remember everything his father said, hadn't really believed the things said in haste and panic.

His ghostly vision is starting to fade. "It's going. Dad- I-" So many things he wishes he could say. Never enough time, and never knowing there's not enough time until it's too late.

"I love you, Tim, and I'm always watching you."

He curls up a little further in on himself. "I love you, too."

Early morning finds him curled up in bed with one of his dad's shirts, face tearstained but a slight smile on his face. He's murmuring haltingly to air that only looks empty, telling of all the things Jack might have missed - thoughts he's had, places he's been, things about Robin he never got to share, things he did the previous day.

As long as there's someone there, he will always take the moments to share.


End file.
